Perfection
by XxWitchxHazelxX
Summary: Consists in Shane Acker's 9 universe. About the Scientist set before the movie, and his daughter. Credits to the Scientist's Facebook entries that helped me get the time and up to date right. Includes OCs. 9 c Shane Acker, Focus Features.


"Welcome to the B.R.A.I.N project..."

I wrote the words in the leather bound diary, running my tired fingers through my hair. This was not going to be an easy task...The Chancellor had left moments ago and for a change, was pleased with my work. But this is not the end...back to work.

"Father, I think it needs more..." I heard the soft voice behind me. Peering over my shoulder, I saw her kneeling in front of my great machine. It had two wooden blocks and an old empty ink jar, and it had a stretched out limb toward her, flipping its palm gently, as if gesturing.

I stood up from my desk and handed her a small container of glue. "It amazes me with its very moves..." I couldn't help but mutter, as she handed the machine the glue, and it thanked her with a gentle handshake. "I think its brilliant." She said confidently, standing up. "It should be smart, with your intellect."

I smiled weakly, ruffling her black hair slightly. "The very machine was born of my intellect, dear."

She looked down to see the machine tugging on her skirt lightly, gesturing again. This time, she pulled out the red ribbon that held her hair and put it into the Machine's outstretched palm.

"I think its time you returned home..." I said quietly, sitting back at my desk, words of the Great World War pouring from my pen into the diary. "I must get back to work."

"Sorry, Father." She leaned over, putting her chin on my worn out shoulders. "With the way you've been sleeping, you need someone to take care of you. As of now." She took the nib from my hands as i finished my signature, closed the diary, and put my arm over her shoulders as she supported me.

She knew me too well...she was right, as I slumped a bit against her. but I couldn't help but laugh a little, for the first time in days, and put a light kiss on her widow's peak.

------

She made sure I went to sleep indeed. The last thing I saw was her small hands deactivating my machine...so it also could rest. She then picked up an extra blanket and lay it over me, as my eyes gave in to the heavy weight calling for the well needed rest.

The sound of saxophones and a piano woke me the next morning. I lifted my head and was emmediently welcomed by the smell of hot tea. I groaned a bit and sat up, walking into the room covered in sketch papers and random bits and pieces of machinery. My machine stood on the biggest table, its eye still dim. It had not yet been turned on I figured, as I touched the cold metal. I picked up the tea cup and sipped it, looking around for the little do-gooder. Checking the clock, I figured she had already left for school. I sighed heavily sipping the tea, then put down the cup and fiddled with the machine, watching as its eye slowly began to glow with life.

------

"They shoved this in my face while I was walking here..." She held up the tattered poster of the Chancellor, a bit of panic from being hassled in her eyes.

I was appalled. "RESIST" was painted in huge letters across the poster, and the Chancellor's eyes had been scratched out in black ink.

It had been almost 3 weeks since the Chancellor left my lab satisfied, This week, my machine had been announced. Almost instantly...a group of citizens began to protest against the new technology. I've been followed home more than once, these "rebels" always telling me to stop, to resist...they recently started harassing her, when they saw her enter the laboratory. Today was however, the first time she had brought back something. I sighed. "Did they harm you?"

She shook her head a bit. "The police struck them down before they could do anything else..." She looked out the window. "A man and a woman...but..." She looked back at me. "I don't think they intended harm."

I adjusted my glasses wearily. "I'm sure they have no intention...but...best you keep away from them, dear..." I petted her shoulder comfortingly and took the poster from her hands. My diary was looking a bit plain...

I sat down and took out the tape, as she went over once again to my almost finished machine, which greeted her with another handshake.

---------

I sat at my desk once more...I had not yet stopped shaking from the event that happened just moments ago. She came over with a wrapped up package of ice and pressed it against my cheek, where one of the soldiers had struck me. They took the B.R.A.I.N. They took my machine...for a series of tests. That I knew not of.

"They don't know what they're doing..." I whispered. She looked at me with concerned filled eyes. "Try not to move Father...what could the worst be?"

I covered my eyes at her words. She didn't know...what the B.R.A.I.N could accomplish.

----------

I shut the door to my lab, my eyes were shut in regret. I had just been interrogated for several hours...by force. I looked up to see papers scattered everywhere and I slowly began to panic. Where was...?

My heart rated slowed down with relief when she crawled out from under my desk...holding my diary close to her. Her eyes were bulging, the bags now matching the color of her now messily set hair. "F-father...?" She stood up almost instantly and ran over, clinging to my worn out frame. I looked down to her a bit dumbfounded and touched her back. She was shaking violently and the cold of her skin bit my fingers, even through her sweater. My eyes widened as I wrapped my arms around her.

"Th...they...they were here..." Her voice shook along with her body. "They...took the documents...and the...prototypes..." My eyes widened once again. "I kept your diary safe...I...I've stayed hidden under there...ever since they came..."

Keeping a hold of her, I moved forward to my desk, and searched through past sketches, notes, letters from others...I found nothing.

She hid her face into my shirt after seeing my expression...a mix of shock, anxiety, and anger. "I wanted to stop them...but I'm....I'm not strong enough..."

I looked down at her, softly stroking her back. "Its not your fault dear..." I pulled the messy strands of hair from her face. "I don't understand why they are doing this..."

"Resist! Resist!" Voices chanted outside and she looked up a bit and looked toward the window, her grey eyes looked desperate and exhausted. I groaned.

This was not helping a bit.

------

"The Fabrication Machine"

I almost threw the paper down in frustration. Why was this happening? Why now? I clutched my head looking down at the table. The B.R.A.I.N had not been tested, not properly...There was no way that the Chancellor or any of his men knew what they were doing with the machine.

She looked at me from across the table worryingly. If none of this had happened, she would've been helping the machine to build its tiny scraps, play a small game with it...I turned my head to the side a bit. Not once during this dark hour, had she left my side, protested, or had turned against me, as it felt that every human being I had contact with had done. I blinked a few times before shutting my eyes completely. Her heart was too big for herself...if a bullet were to enter my head, she'd put her own head in place.

"Father...?" She leaned over putting a hand on mine. "Are you alright? Do you need anything? I'll be happy to make you something."

My point proven.

I petted her hand softly. "I'll be fine, sweetheart. Go on off to school, you're going to be late."

---------

"Leave me alone!" I heard her cry out, as the key of the door struggled to get into the lock. I quickly stood up and hurried to the door, opening it and pulling her inside, locking the door as soon as it clicked shut. Another resist poster managed to wedge in though, and it floated to the ground. I gritted my teeth and looked over at her. She was breathing heavily, one of her sleeves was torn. "There's more everyday...they keep shouting things at me...they want you to come out." She looked up at me, her grey eyes were filled with fear.

I couldn't stand this. Being followed home, having them harass her when she meant no harm...

"Pack what you can find." I said briskly, letting her arm go.

"W-why...?" Was she could get out, as she watched me leave the room, bewildered.

I returned, thrusting a bag into her arms.

"We can't stay here."

-----------

We've been hidden for a little more than a week now. She still goes to school during the day, but covers herself up so the rebels will not recognize her. She then comes straight home but barely speaks to me. I feel horrible...for what this is concerning her...and for the War that is now amongst us. The Fabrication machine had made war machines and are now unleashed...with their bullets and their poison...who knows how many they are killing.

I know now that the Chancellor must be stopped. This war is not going to help a thing...all it is causing...death, carnage, a swipe of a the Reaper's scythe.

"This war must end..." I muttered to myself as I scratched my nib into the journal, above yet another resist poster.

There was a lone sigh behind me. I looked over my shoulder slightly. She was sitting on the window seat staring out, although there was nothing to see but darkness. She was holding something to her...a stuffed burlap doll that I had made in my earlier days as a toy maker. It couldn't have been any bigger than her hand, and was itchy and dirty...but she always held it close to her when she was afraid.

She was worrying me...she's barely eaten since we left for the underground. Her skin was getting more pale, and felt cold and clammy at skin contact. I missed her smile most of all...she hasn't worn it this whole time.

I stood up and looked toward her. "Dear..."

She stood up as well as I spoke, still holding the doll. "I have homework to do..." She mumbled quietly, not looking at me, as she headed toward the other room.

I looked sadly at her as I took her spot at the window seat. "Darling, hear me out."

She stopped in her footsteps. I could sense her resists to make a big huffy sigh at me.

"I'm sorry for everything...I'm sorry we have to hide...I'm sorry that war has lashed out...I'm sorry...I failed at trying to make a difference." I put a palm to my face as I stuttered on my last words.

This time she sighed quietly, and turned, looking at me.

I looked up and noticed something familiar.

A look of concern was plastered on her face.

Something I haven't seen in a while.

I looked down again, then looked up, patting the seat next to me.

She stared for a few more seconds, then dragged herself over and plopped next to me, looking down at the doll in her hands.

Her hair made a dark curtain over her face, making it impossible to see her expression this time.

"Sweetheart...I know I haven't been very good with my promises lately." I said, looking down at her. "But this time, I guarantee...I will find a way out of this entire mess."

"War is happening...how could you possible stop that..." She said almost in a whisper, refusing to look up.

Her words pained me. Enough that I almost gave up and walked back to the desk to rant into my diary...which seemed to be all I did now of these dark days.

But I stayed put.

"This time, I will keep true to my word." I said, as I lifted her chin up. "Look at me. Would these eyes lie?"

She stared into my most likely bloodshot red tired eyes. Then her own grey eyes slowly began to fill with tears.

I let go of her chin and brushed a few strands from her face.

"You're the most important thing to me now. So this promise is important...I'll go to all ends to stop this."

I smiled sadly at her.

"Please darling...don't go against me as well...you're all I have left is this godforsaken world. All I can protect."

She looked at me for what seemed like eternity, before she leaned her head against my chest.

"I'll never go against you father...I never have..." She said in a choked up voice. "I...I believe in you..."

I could feel her face begin to heat up against my chest. I smiled sadly down at her and brought my arms around her.

"I'm glad you do...I believe in you as well." I whispered, as I rocked her gently. "I won't go against my word like I did last time...this time...we will have peace."

She looked up slightly, then back down, hiding her face in my chest once again.

Then said the two words that were all I needed to hear.

"Thank you."

----------

This is a most desperate hour, but now I'm beginning the Transfer Device.

The steps toward a new tomorrow...I can only hope there is time.

I wrote the words in the diary, as she laced up her shoes.

"Take this with you." I stood up and gave her one of my coats. "Its raining today...you'll need to be more covered."

She smiled and slipped it on. The color had returned to her face and I could see her eyes again.

It felt wonderful to see her smile.

"I'll try not to get wet...I'll be home at the usual time." She picked up the bag, slipping it over her shoulder. "Good luck Father, I'll see you in a few hours."

I smiled and kneeled down, kissing her widow's peak. "Have a good day."

Then she turned and left out the door, which closed with a small click.

I heard the faint footsteps walk away...and then that was all.

------------

This transfer device was frustrating...I had more sketches piled next to me, as I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes tiredly, but put them right back on and continued to work.

I then happened to look up at the clock.

She should've been home a half hour ago....

I sighed and tried not to worry...she probably went to the shop with a friend for a soda pop, as she hasn't seen any of them for a while.

Soda pop...strawberry was her favorite. I remembered when she was little, at the toy shop, if I had ever had a good day, I would give her a nickel so she could buy herself one. The toy shop was always a fond memory...its a shame that-

There was suddenly sharp knocking at the door. I looked up confused. Was it her? She never knocked though, she had a key...unless she had lost it. I closed my eyes at the thought of having to buy another key as I stood up and opened the door.

Two of the rebels stood there.

"Are you the Scientist?" The older one said in a grim voice.

I blinked twice.

"Its him." He said, his voice toning more on the grim side, turning to the younger rebel.

He couldn't have been more than twenty...but he was big and strong, and he was holding something covered in a blanket.

He approached me, still holding the covered object.

"It snapped today." He said.

My eyes widened.

"War machines came out of nowhere this morning." He continued. "They attacked every human being in sight. Citizens...Children."

My widened eyes lowered to the blanket.

"What..."

He looked at me with sad eyes.

"We recognized her."

A hand fell from out of the blanket along with his words.

That was all he had to say. My hand lifted and gently lifted the blanket.

There she was.

I quickly put the blanket back down and almost jumped back.

Trembling violently, I looked back up at the rebels, my eyes were sure to fall out of their sockets any second.

"We found her behind a car..." The older one said. "Her hands were covering her face...as if...she was protecting it. But her back was gouged with bullet holes."

I wanted to speak but I couldn't. I carefully lifted the blanket again...to see her face perfectly in tact.

But it was white, her lips were blue. Her hair was limp...her grey eyes were closed forever...never to shine with life again. From the neck down...was covered in crimson.

I trembled more violently and quickly dropped the blanket again, covering my face with my hand, almost losing my balance as I lent my spare hand against the wall.

So the Fabrication Machine had snapped...it had been expected as I had said before but...my god. Normal citizens had been attacked...walking to work...to school...claimed young people as the first victims of it's rage.

And my little girl is one of them.

The one person...the one person that meant most to me...the one I...I had sworn to protect...was now lying limp in a friend's arms, her heart still, oblivious to every beat.

I had let her down.

-------

It has been more than a month since the incident...since the world fell...when she fell.

The Chancellor is dead. Everyone that had abused my machine are dead. Those who hadn't touched it at all are dead.

And yet, the machines are still out there...killing.

The talisman had been completed, and I had released the first eight.

I ran my hand down the rough burlap...that would be used for my best creation yet.

But I was so tired...I had aged so...in this past terrible month. So drained...I wanted to stop all of this and just rest...

But there was no time for rest. No time...none at all.

The 9th one...needed to be the most accomplished...but how could that be...?

Nothing living nor dead has perfection...its physically and logically impossible.

As my hand wandered on the table aimlessly for scissors, it bumped into something. I once again, felt the rough itchy touch of burlap.

I looked up and saw it...the little burlap doll she would hold close...one of the first things I had ever created.

I looked at it, as my hand slowly closed over one of its arms.

Perfection...my other hand slowly picked up a tainted calico fabric and my other hand joined, in cutting out a figure.

10...it can only mean perfection.

My hands then began to sew. creating a small body...it was similar to the seventh one...but it was tiny.

Perfection...no such living thing holds a mere piece of it...

I adjusted the lenses, sewed them into the tiny head. The machinery inside lay cold and rested for the time being.

But there was one...who was just perfect...

It was complete in no time, with one simple mistake. It was corrected in two minutes, as of now, the doll has a small widow's peak in the center of its forehead.

She...was just that...

A tear fell from my eye and splashed onto the table, as I dipped the nib in ink and scratched the number onto the back of the unmoving stitchpunk.

10.

-------

I breathed heavily as I almost fell from my seat.

Of all the accidents I had as a youngster...of all the injuries I had making my machine...every physical pain that was brought upon me...none of them could compare to splitting your soul into multiple pieces to try and save the spark of life.

I put my hand to my heart for a few seconds then sat right back up.

The stitchpunk didn't move...but its chest rose up and down.

It was breathing.

I sighed with relief and held my hand out, gently taking it out of the symbols, its head flopping back.

"Little one...?" I whispered, holding it as softly as I could.

I heard a small clicking noise.

It was blinking.

Then, tiny hands gripped my thumb and pointer finger, as it hoisted itself up slightly, as if it were tired.

It looked into my eyes, the optics widening slightly.

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly. It would react that way...a tiny thing like it waking up to my face.

I coughed and put it down on its feet, holding my throat slightly. This aging really was starting to intervene...

It stared at me, its optics still wide. I coughed and pounded myself in the chest a few times, before looking weakly back up at it.

It looked back at me...with a familiar look.

A look of concern.

I wanted to cry. All my love for her...had gone right into bher/b.

I didn't want to let her go now...but...sacrifices had to be made...the others would need her heart.

I gently held out a finger to her, to let her know I intended no harm.

She hesitated...but not for long, before her tiny hand touched my finger, petting it slightly.

I smiled at her. She was timid...yet gentle. Just how she was.

I kept my finger out as she walked toward my hand itself, stroking it with wonder, yet her touch stayed gentle, not like the third and the fourth, who had almost taken a hunk of my flesh off.

She had a small smile as well...petting my hand slightly.

The second one was going to like her, I could already see it.

"Your name is 10." I said in a soft voice. "Can you say that for me?"

She looked back up at me.

Her mouth shook a little...but then, the word rolled right out.

"10."

------------

I could hear the bullets and bombs outside...the gas bombs planting themselves into the ground.

I looked down at 10 in my hands, with a worried expression.

How would she be able to find the others? She was fragile...a bit weak. I had walked into the room seeing her struggling to get out from under a book that had happened to tip over on her.

She sat in my hand, looking up at me with a look of confusion.

I thought for a second...

The others...they would protect her...they were all responsible of keeping each other safe.

I tried not to worry...I kneeled to the ground, next to the open door, gently putting her back down to her feet.

"Go on..." I whispered. "Remember what I told you...find the others...they won't be too hard to recognize."

She turned and looked up, tilting her head back at me with a concerned expression yet again.

I smiled sadly down at her.

"I will be fine...go on now."

She stared at me for a few more seconds.

Then she nodded and turned, running right out the door and into the dust.

But she stopped again and looked back at me.

I gave her another reassuring smile, then flicked my hand slightly, gesturing for her to keep going.

She turned yet again and this time...disappeared into the dust.

-----

There was no sound.

Not a voice speaking, not a bird chirping...

I'm all alone...

I began to write my last entry, then I would be closing the diary for good.

It was all...painful to think about.

We had such potential...such promise.

But we squandered our gifts.

I can only hope...that my creations can provide something for this world of tarnished beauty.

I then, closed the diary shut forever, then turned to yet another stitchpunk, hanging lifeless in the symbols.

The 9th one.

It was time.

Even if she was gone...I wasn't going to break my promise to her.

I would clean this mess up...

Even if I am not around to do it.

Our world is ending...

But life must go on.


End file.
